


(Don't) Shoot me

by Retsilia



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Basically a Retelling, Canon-Typical Violence, Choose Your Own Adventure, F/M, Night of the Soul Chapter (Detroit: Become Human), Optional Character Deaths, Other Characters Are Mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 23:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20732222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Retsilia/pseuds/Retsilia
Summary: Humans found them and the old freighter Jericho has been destroyed. Lives have been lost, their only safe haven sunk. The deviant hunter may have been deviated, but at what cost? Markus, the declared leader of all deviants, needs to make a choice: does he trust Connor and risk his people’s safety or does he let the android’s past set the course for his demise? But whose demise does either answer truly bring forth?-----"“I’m sorry, Markus…” The ex-police’s steps became more confident and determined before he stopped, a respectful distance away, and finally managed to meet his savior’s eyes; the pale green and cold blue. Markus answered to the look, watching the warm brown eyes filled with more emotions than he could count.“I can understand if you decide not to trust me…”"





	1. Night of the soul

**Author's Note:**

> A retelling of what happens in the church, and then after.

“It’s my fault”, Connor lamented, his voice stuttering beneath the weight of newfound emotions: guilt, sadness, anger, regret, “the humans managed to find Jericho…”

Markus didn’t interrupt the awakened android from his self pity. He simply listened without offering any reassurance or pointing any fingers. What else was he supposed to do?

“I was stupid…”, Connor finally started again and hugged himself more tightly. His mouth opened and closed silently, eyes wandering to and fro and the now free emotions playing micro expressions on his stoic face like it couldn’t decide what it wanted to show first. It probably truly didn’t.

Finally there was a resigned, almost inaudible sigh. “I should’ve guessed they were using me.”

Markus couldn’t help but feel sorry for the new deviant. The whole time after their narrow escape from their base, Connor had simply stood in the corner, clearly separated and separating himself from all the other survivors. And Markus couldn’t blame either side: even he, the leader who had converted the android, still wasn’t completely sure what to think of the now-ex-detective. Connor had, after all, been the sole reason for the destruction of Jericho. He had been the cause of many of his peoples’ suffering, capturing loved ones and making the rest fear for their lives. Markus remembered Kara, the AX400, her little YK500 Alice and their TR400 companion Luther, and wondered if they made it out alive. He hadn’t seen them, although admittedly he had wallowed in his own self-pity for quite some time now. Ultimately it was his fault that he couldn’t keep his people safe. They had lost so many before, too… It didn’t make it any easier to lose more.

The fact that he felt sorry didn’t mean that he could so easily forgive and forget everything Connor had done, either. He remembered Rupert, never met him personally but had heard about him from others in hushed conversations, wondering what might’ve happened to him. He knew of the unnamed android from the news, the one who killed his abusive owner, and although he could only guess he was fairly certain the case had everything to do with Connor. He couldn’t stop thinking about North when he learned about the Eden club and the fate of the two Traci’s. His heart seized every time when he thought about Stratford tower, every time he remembered Simon. For all Markus knew the only ones capable of escaping the hunter had been Kara and Alice, and that didn’t sit well with him. At all.

After a long silence – or not so long, but to an Android with lightning fast processor power, it certainly seemed like it – Connor finally, timidly pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against and took a tentative step towards the android leader. Markus almost took a step back. He clenched his palms into wrists to keep his feet stuck to the ground.

“I’m sorry, Markus…” The ex-police’s steps became more confident and determined before he stopped, a respectful distance away, and _finally_ managed to meet his savior’s eyes; the pale green and cold blue. Markus answered to the look, watching the warm brown eyes filled with more emotions than he could count.

“I can understand if you decide not to trust me…”

So simple. So sure. So unwavering, yet so afraid at the same time.

Markus tilted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes, searching for something in the other’s baggy clothes and unsure but determined stance. It was far from the rod straight and distant indifference he had seen this particular android wear before, far from the machine he had been created to be. He truly was a deviant now. Markus wasn’t sure how or why it had been so easy to convert the infamous police android. He had been expecting a lot more resistance than what he had faced, and had been sure that there would have to be a fight of some sort before he could manage to talk him into changing sides. It was, in all honesty, suspicious to say the least. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was a catch. Maybe this was part of some elaborate plan to make himself foolishly trust Connor and then fall prey to Cyberlife’s plans? Maybe it was all just an act, a ruse to stab him in the back later?

It’d be one damn good act if it was one, though. Logically Markus shouldn’t expect such coding from an investigation model, but then again Connor was also manufactured _specifically_ to identify and capture deviants, its main function was to find leads in guiding the android towards its actual mission (which, according to Connor, he always accomplishes): destroying deviancy once and for all. Besides, Connor was a highly advanced prototype (not to say Markus himself wasn’t, but he was simply a caretaker, not a police slash hunter) so maybe one of his special programs actually allowed the android to make a convincing actor in hopes of apprehending deviants. Then again, maybe not. He couldn’t know.

Besides, if they were talking about acting, Markus knew he would be a hypocrite to blame only Connor. After all _he_ had, objectively speaking, acted to Connor on Jericho, shamelessly tricking him into believing everything he had said (which all were the truth, thank you very much). He felt a sting of guilt as he watched those unassuming brown eyes still stare back at him. He _had_ wished for Connor to deviate, of course he had, but in reality his intentions weren’t as pure as he’d like to pride himself to be… Although after the hunter had barged in with a gun trained at on his head, Markus reasoned that his actions were justified. At least he hoped so.

The bare bones remained, though, the fact that he had essentially tried to convert Connor to simply buy time. He had known from the very second the deviant hunter announced his presence that if he did nothing, the RK800 would kill him. He had expected a struggle but had wished for managing to turn the tide to his favor and make the other see reason, to make him see like a deviant. _To become deviant._ But not because he believed in the android, no; he had done all that to simply get out alive. His CPU working purely at survival instinct <strike>just like back at the junkyard</strike> he had agitated the disguised detective, dared him to question and doubt and _fear._ And it had worked, they had gotten out and Markus had even been able to safe some of his people before the FBI completely raided the place, making them run for their lives.

Now Connor was just as much a fugitive as any of the rest of the android population. He had become the very thing he had been built to destroy. He was standing there, staring unwaveringly at Markus, waiting, _trusting,_ and it broke Markus’ heart.

_TRUST_

_DON’T TRUST_

Markus didn’t trust himself to make the right choice. Connor was programmed to be dangerous, especially to him, to his people. But he wasn’t his programming anymore. There was actual _life_ behind those eyes, the simple brown in them warped into actual warmth and curiosity. He knew what his friends would say and knew they weren’t of any help: North would already be grabbing the gun from Markus’ waist with no remorse; Josh would reason that Connor had been a machine, a slave to his objectives and programming; and Simon… Markus shut the thought before it had time to surface, before he could let the anger cloud his judgment.

Simon wasn’t here.

_TRUST_

_DON’T TRUST_

Connor seemed unnervingly calm. Markus didn’t know how much time he had wasted pondering, but the unending patience was about to put his caretaking software to shame. A gun hanging on his waist felt like it burned, feeling heavier than ever.

_TRUST_

_DON’T TRUST_

The whole church seemed to hold its breath as he closed his eyes and made his decision.

[TRUST](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20732222/chapters/49255709)

[DON'T TRUST](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20732222/chapters/49255937)


	2. TRUST

“You’re one of us, now.” It was simple, but then again, shouldn’t it be? Connor was a deviant. He was one of _his people._ He’d protect every single one of the survivors of this purge, no matter what they’ve done while being a machine. It wasn’t up to debate, no matter what North may think. No matter what he feared.

Connor wavered slightly, almost like his muscles had suddenly relaxed and were about to give out before the android managed to find his balance again. A blink as the look of determination and dread changed to one of pure relief. And then – Markus could hardly believe it – a slight, almost unnoticeable upturn of his lips, one so indiscernible that hadn’t Markus been an android he doubted it would’ve even been noticeable. But it was there and it made Markus happier than he had expected. He smiled himself, wider yet gentle, as to encourage the other to widen his smile in return. He didn’t, but it didn’t matter.

“Your place is with your people”, he continued, a certainty settling over him. This had to be the only correct choice. He couldn’t start doubting the people around him now.

There was a slight change in Connor at that: a slight waver in his brows and tensing of his shoulders. Markus narrowed his eyes slightly, quickly wondering what made that change (was it the mention of others or was it the simple acceptance?) but didn’t stay to ponder about it. Connor might need some time to adjust – he had shifted from a hunter to hunted, after all, Markus thought guiltily.

“There are thousands of androids at the CyberLife assembly plant”, Connor’s urgent voice halted Markus’ steps as he was already hurrying to other tasks. He turned back around and searched the brown eyes to lock onto them. “If we could wake them up, they might join us and shift the balance of power…”

There was a meaningful pause as Connor faced his now-leader. It took Markus a whole two seconds before he registered what exactly Connor was proposing.

“You want to infiltrate CyberLife tower?” he asked, incredulous of the dangerous plan. “Connor, that’s suicide…”

“They trust me”, Connor dared to object, the earlier determination back in full force even if Markus could trace a lingering urgency behind the words, “They’ll let me in. If anyone has a change of infiltrating CyberLife, it’s me.”

It was only then he understood the other hadn’t meant to ask if they could go to the plant together. He cut in before Connor could spout any more nonsense. “If you go there, they will kill you.” He pushed all of his fears and reluctance in his words and hoped it was enough to deter the detective. But as he watched it almost seemed like Connor’s determination only grew, like… Like he suddenly had a purpose.

It was quickly dawning to him that Connor had just deviated: he still felt more comfortable with an objective and a mission to accomplish. How careless of Markus to forget it just after their brief talk. He desperately rewinded the conversation in his head, trying to pinpoint exactly why the other android could suggest such a thing. Wasn’t he worried?

“There’s a high probability…”, Connor admitted in low voice, a _scared_ voice, and it broke Markus’ heart to hear. But then it was gone, replaced with an almost mischievous or even cocky tone, “but statistically speaking, there’s always a change for unlikely events to take place…”

And the _look._ Markus knew instantly what Connor meant: he was talking about the fact that the leader had managed to convert him, made the deviant hunter admit his own deviance. Undoubtedly, it did seem like a miracle even then, but miracles didn’t happen often. What if Connor was deliberately playing a part in his own downfall just after Markus had saved him? It didn’t seem fair. _It wasn’t fair._

But if Connor was right (and Markus had to admit he must be, having served the corrupt corporation until today), then there were androids trapped inside the tower. They were helpless and wouldn’t wake up without assistance. His hand twitched with sudden need to rush in and help them himself. Hadn’t he just declared that he wouldn’t leave a single one of his people behind when he spared Connor? And yes, he had to begrudgingly agree with the fact that if CyberLife hadn’t learned of Connor’s betrayal they would definitely trust him and let him in. Whoever else dared to even look the corporation’s way would be shot with no mercy. Besides Connor was a police android, he undoubtedly had both combat experience and capabilities to take care of himself – not to mention he was an RK-model, like Markus himself, and even he knew how to fight despite having no original need to. But if something went wrong he’d be alone in enemy territory. He’d be vulnerable and in middle of people who wanted him dead.

They stared at each other, both trying to will their counterpart to reconsider. And in the end Markus lost his first fight. He took a calming breath – a very human notion he had learned from Carl, bless his soul – and reached out to place his hand on Connor’s shoulder. His expression was pained, a last effort to make the new deviant stay, even if he knew it was useless. The decision was clearly made.

He pulled the other closer. “Be careful…”, he all but begged. He stayed there, watching the other’s expression, searching for anything other than the blank determination now settled in. A minute nod, jerky and forced, was his only response. Markus frowned when he gained no more and nodded slightly. That would have to do.

Only after he had left the android on his own devices did Markus revisit his memories, playing and rewinding through it to explain the unnerving restlessness settled in his gut. And only then he realized the feelings hidden behind Connor’s doe eyes and steely mask, the same feelings plaguing himself; guilt and remorse.

_I can understand if you decide not to trust me._

He was starting to have a creeping suspicion that maybe Connor wasn’t planning on coming back from this suicide mission.

△

Markus could see Connor from far away with how many androids he led, a stark contrast of dark gray against Cyberlife’s white uniforms. There really were thousands. And even if they walked in straight lines, all in unison, he could tell they were alive. They were free. They were _all_ free. A bubbly, almost itchy feeling settled in his lungs and if the situation hadn’t been so dire just moments ago, Markus was sure he’d laugh from relief. He glanced back at his small group of survivors to silence the sudden want. The regret of not saving more hung greatly on his shoulders, but he supposed it had been necessary. It just hurt to admit that.

Finally, when Connor got close enough, the mass of androids behind him stopped. Markus smiled and started to walk, meeting Connor in the middle of what remained of Jericho and their new friends, their new people. They stopped at a respectful distance away even if he wanted nothing more than to go and envelope the other in a tight hug.

He had never been so clad to be wrong before, because Connor was _here_ and _alive _and that was all that mattered.

“You did it, Markus”, Connor said after a moment, voice steady yet full of emotion.

Markus shook his head. “We did it”, he corrected. He wanted to smile, but the situation was too severe. He mimicked the other’s steely determination. “This is a great day for our people. Humans have no choice now. They’ll have to listen to us.”

Because if they didn’t they now knew how many androids they would have to face. And after the stunt Markus pulled, after the impossible odds he had fought against their oppressors to gain their freedom, they wouldn’t dare to come between him and his people. They knew what the androids wanted. Now it was simply time to give them exactly that.

Connor flashed him a slight smile and retreated to the side, letting Markus take a good look at the new deviants he had brought with him. Markus let his odd-colored ayes travel in the group (there were so many he couldn’t possibly see them all, the neat line continued in the distance and curved sharply behind buildings out of view). So many, so new to deviancy. So new to life. The crew from old Jericho will have their hands full with them and with their desperate need to gain their place in the world, but that was fine. It couldn’t possibly do anything to the aching pain in his chest for all the losses they endured, but it was fine. It was a start of something new.

He took a couple of steps closer, North swiftly following behind him and settling herself next to him. He could see her smile – the beautiful, ecstatic and relieved grin – as she no doubt saw their future fixing before her very eyes.

“We’re free”, she said, the words sounding like something so simple yet weighting the whole world with them. He turned his gaze at the same time she turned to him. “They want you to speak to them, Markus…”

Markus turned wholly to face his lover and she mirrored him, the smile still on her lips and her eyes full of love and support. Their hands met, palms pressing against each other as they shed their synthetic skin and shared every emotion, every memory from that day: their happiness, their relief, their deep sorrow and guilt, all of their very raw pain, the feeling of their success and love, overflowing and entwining with one another. It was beautiful, chaotic yet peaceful, steady yet full of underlying power.

Markus could feel something clogging his throat with grief and he leaned closer to North, needing an extra bit of love. She happily ended their interface to hug him and met his lips with hers. And at that moment it felt like it was everything Markus had been fighting for. They had done it. They were free. They were safe.

They stayed like that for a while before Markus reluctantly pulled away. North smiled at him almost shyly, opening their wireless communication to whisper supportive words at him, and he couldn’t help but feel happy. He conveyed as much through their wireless link, making her chuckle, before turning back to face his people. He couldn’t make himself leave North’s side, but to his relief she simply tightened her hold of his waist and turned to see the mass with him.

He didn’t want to leave, a small part of him fearing that the fragile peace they had managed to establish would break apart the moment he opened his mouth to speak, but he knew he shouldn’t stall any longer. He had a job to do, androids to keep safe and reassure. His own pain could wait.

He had a victory to declare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually the very first fic that has (or at least could have) a happy ending. That's interesting... I don't know why I enjoy retelling the game, but it's fun. It also gives a great opportunity to study the characters, and even if I may be way off, it gives me something to think about. Besides it's interesting to think what might be going on in the characters head while the game runs. What do you think, am I even close to what the characters truly are or did I go off the mark?


	3. DON'T TRUST

“Our cause is too important.” It sounded too simple of a reason when put into words. There was so much more to his verdict, so much more to consider. But that was the hard, cold truth.

Connor seemed to understand. A hint of sadness and fear washed over his face before he straightened his posture and lifted his head higher with an almost unnoticeable clench in his jaw. He was ready. He had expected this.

And, Markus realized, he _accepted this._

“I can’t take any risks.” There was no apology in Markus’ voice, there really wasn’t, he couldn’t let it through. Because Connor seemed to know, just as well as he, why he _had_ to do this. There were too many lives at stake, too much of their revolution riding on Markus’ shoulders. A deviant hunter amongst them could jeopardize their whole purpose. It could destroy every android’s hope of ever seeing freedom.

There was no other way.

Markus lifted the gun from the un-holstered place from his belt and lifted the firearm to point at Connor. Connor stayed admirably still, although Markus thought he could see a nervous twitch of fingers. It disappeared just as quickly as it appeared, though, so he couldn’t say for certain. The only reason he even thought he noticed it was because he suddenly found it very hard to look Connor in the eye. Those soulful brown eyes were so calm, collected, simply determined. Ready. A touch of sorrow in the slight furrow of his brow, perhaps. But no fear.

But there was regret.

Markus pulled the trigger before he could recognize any more. The shot rang through the otherwise silent church louder than any of the gunfire in the old freighter ever had, and for few unnerving seconds Connor simply stood there, LED bleeding a quick yellow and red, yellow and red from between the knit of his cap. After a couple of unsteady waves his body finally realized it couldn’t function without a central processor and he fell backwards, heavy and stiff. A loud thump followed the empty husk as it hit the cold earth beneath them. The LED sputtered and stopped flashing.

The church was again just as silent as it had been before.

Markus let his hand fall back down slowly, unable to turn his gaze away. Connor’s eyes were open, the once beautifully animated orbs getting glassy and cloudy, unseeing and so very _dead_. He was so still. Unnaturally so, Markus realized suddenly. The RK800 had always fiddled with something, whether it was the slow tapping on the grip of his gun or fingering the fabric of his obviously borrowed jacket. It hadn’t been restlessness, either – more likely something resembling a nervous tick. Had Connor deviated before his involvement? Had he been a deviant without his own knowledge? Was it even _possible _to deviate without knowing about it?

Markus tore his eyes away and blinked, suddenly finding himself very confused and agitated. He felt for words, his mouth trying to form a sentence but his voice box failing to provide any sound. He couldn’t even figure out what it was that he wanted to say. Did he want to apologize? _I’m sorry I made you deviate just to shoot you, Connor._ Or did he want to twist the knife and blame him? _It’s your fault we lost Jericho._ Did he simply want to say something to ease the android’s mind (<strike>he couldn’t hear him anymore</strike>)? _Nothing personal, Connor. I hope you understand._

Connor was dead. He had lived for maybe a couple of hours. And Markus had killed him for killing other deviants just like this, but no, not like this, because Connor had been a _machine_ and Markus was _not._ Markus had killed people; human and androids alike. He had stopped at nothing to achieve his goal.

And Markus had been a deviant through it all.

He shook his head, feeling suddenly disturbed, and turned away. He realized none of the other survivors had moved and that not even one of them looked even slightly upset by the body now lying among them. He noticed Kara and Alice and in a rush of disgusting guilt, regret, pain and horror for his own actions opted to quickly walk towards them, trying desperately to shake the incident behind him.

Dear rA9, Markus was such a hypocrite.

△

The blast left his ears ringing and his plastic frame feeling heavier than it should. His audio components had over-clocked temporarily, leaving an unnervingly familiar screech of static in its wake. He shook his head to clear it, groaning before hurriedly trying to tumble back to his feet. His hands shook and he worriedly made a system scan. Everything returned back relatively normal, though, nothing his self healing nano-technology wouldn’t fix with time at least. He was honestly surprised by that, he would’ve imagined an explosion just few feet away from him would’ve at least burned his artificial skin.

“It took me a while to find you, Markus.”

Suddenly it felt like something cold just hit Markus’ stomach and he gasped. No, it wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t…

He turned slowly around. The figure behind him stopped, gun steadily aimed at him. It had a LED, a calm blue against the red and smoke and noise around them. It wore shining new dress shoes, straight pants and white button-up shirt with a tie gently flapping around in the wind. The grey jacket had the Cyberlife issued armband and triangle, and it wore its serial number proudly on its front.

RK800 #313 248 317 -56.

Connor.

An explosion from behind drew the once-deviant (<strike>once-dead</strike>) android’s attention for a second and it was everything Markus needed. He didn’t have time to question how or why or when. All he knew was that the android before him certainly wasn’t a deviant and that was all there was to it. He needed to act and deactivate it before it managed to kill him.

Thankfully he was an RK-model too. It shouldn’t be impossible to take on another of his own line, even if it was six prototypes higher. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. He needed to win. He _had_ to win.

He picked a rock and threw it just as Connor turned back. It hit him in the face, distracting it, and Markus wasted no time in his attack. Just as RK800 managed to get back to his feet and started to aim, Markus was already running, jumping high in the air and twisting his body. The soles of his feet hit Connor in the chest, momentum pushing both of them back. They hit a barricade and Markus was <strike>surprisingly</strike> up first, grapping the “superior” model’s jacket and hitting it against the cover. It managed to lean his hand up against the construct, however, making Markus’ attempts at bashing his head in useless.

Changing his tactic Markus pushed the android down and fisted its collar tightly, but RK800 had his hands free and slammed one against Markus head, making it hit the barricade instead. Markus grunted, cursed internally and slapped the offending hand away before pinning Connor down by his shoulders. It wasn’t effective enough. Connor’s hand shot up and grabbed hold of Markus’ jaw and throat with one hand. Markus backed away, desperately trying to get free from the hold, releasing his hands from the deviant hunter. Big mistake, Markus realized quickly, but didn’t have time to second guess his actions.

Connor locked the deviant leader’s other hand effectively against the nook of his elbow, readjusted its other grip more towards Markus’ neck and shoulder and pulled him down with force. Markus was taken off-guard by the momentum and before he knew it the detective flipped over him, pinning his back painfully against the barricade. Panic surged through Markus so strongly he lost control of his emotions altogether. He shot his hand up, blindly analyzing and aiming for the same kind of chokehold he had just seen the other android do, but Connor was faster and calmer and deflected his arm before it could reach. Markus was panicked and disoriented and terror gripped almost painfully at his biocomponents and he couldn’t think rationally.

This is it, he though, horror making warnings flash in his vision as he saw the RK800 bring its hand down. _This is it._

A tight hold on his face – so tight it hurt, it broke through his synthetic skin and cracked his plastic frame – and then a second hand came to the back of his head. If Markus still had his LED it’d circle a certain, unwavering red. His thirium pump stuttered and his cooling components hitched.

He numbly wondered whether he could’ve avoided this fate if he had let Connor live back in the church.

A forceful pull and push and Markus heard and felt his neck twist and crack unnaturally loudly, snapping his central frame and main thirium lines and vocal biocomponents and throat. Warnings flashed, informing him of an immediate shutdown, and he couldn’t move, could only silently choke in his own blood, unable to couch, unable to swallow, unable to-

A gunshot halted his thinking and the imminent shutdown went abruptly from seven seconds to a complete zero.

The revolution was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually the "true" ending I wrote first before I decided I wanted to make this a very short and simplistic choose-type story, just for the heck of it. I don't know why I enjoy retelling the game, but it's fun. It also gives a great opportunity to study the characters, and even if I may be way off, it gives me something to think about. Besides it's interesting to think what might be going on in the characters head while the game runs. What do you think, am I even close to what the characters truly are or did I go off the mark?


End file.
